


Hot like magma and twice as deadly

by CheshireCaine



Series: SportsFest 2019 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Never before have we seen thirst in proportions like these, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fill, Single Parent Daichi, Sportsfest 2019, Teacher Kuroo, thirst at first sight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 21:10:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20088823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireCaine/pseuds/CheshireCaine
Summary: Daichi had arguably less chill. “Yes.” He couldn’t stop staring. “Me.” Daichi was wearing a messy suit again.Fuuuuck.He needed to distract him from looking at his hideously dressed self. “It’s still me, Daichi is fine.”Suave af.





	Hot like magma and twice as deadly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [novocaine_sea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/novocaine_sea/gifts).

> pretty impressed by how many specific tags I needed were there xD
> 
> SportsFest fill for novocaine_sea with the prompt: Single Parent AU
> 
> shoutout to Sky_King for needed cheerleading in the final hour because I am very sleepy and he appreciated Dadchi. *faceplants asleep onto the keyboard*

Daichi was lucky he hadn’t cancelled the babysitter—he’d been invited out for drinks after work and if he’d skipped another invitation this month by not planning for Hinata, he figured he’d find out what made Kenma so effective at scaring the shit out of clients. Plus, it was a load of fun tossing back drinks—not too many, parenting was like a gentler version of cracking a bat over your head with premature aging—and hanging out with friends. A whole lot less effort than organising reunions, he told Koushi, before Kenma manhandled him to the bar to meet his best friend.

“Ahh, the famous Daichi.” The younger man’s mouth twisted into a grin that should be criminal for how self-satisfied it was. “I promise I’ve only heard fun things.”

Daichi took his hand—he had a firm handshake—and slowly drew back, eyes flicking across the man to scrutinise. “Likewise.” Smiled himself. “Though probably your fun things are pretty different from mine.”

The guy belly laughed. It was gorgeously sincere, tightening the stitches around his chest. His figure was lithe, but the suit was well-made and hugged the contours of his body. He was comfortable in it too, a little slouched and—too many mornings overslept when he needed to take Hinata to daycare meant that Daichi could recognise it well—firmly entrenched bedhead.

Struck quite the contrast with Daichi, whose suit was a little crumpled after the workday and had a dark patch over the pocket where he’d never fully managed to get Hinata’s ketchup stain out.

“I don’t know that I’d say that. Kid’s antics are just adult antics but without crushing responsibility—they’ll always seem crazier.”

Daichi couldn’t help a smile. The man really lucked into the perfect answer, he could see how he struck a nice balance to Kenma. Daichi figured Kenma hadn’t pulled him over here without an end in mind and a couple minutes into an animated argument with _Kuroo_ (he’d finally remembered to properly introduce himself), Kenma slid away and was hoovered up by another group of friends before he could whip out his PSP.

But he’d succeeded in introducing Daichi to his best friend, which probably meant more on a personal level than he’d suggested, and in introducing Kuroo to the specific guy in the room who knew enough to dispute what he was going on about.

Unsurprisingly, the ‘genius entrepreneur’ had the intellectual chops to keep him engaged in an interesting convo about his new start-up to get kids involved in sport. Even if it took zero thought to dissuade him of all the things that wouldn’t work—his coaching experience was more helpful here than his dad knowledge, but he had zero doubt he could predict Hinata’s lack of enthusiasm for certain approaches a few years down the line.

Kuroo constantly slipped into more smiles, barely breaking them to argue a new path he thought would have wiggled his way out of the problem. Daichi smiled harder when he proved him wrong (and maybe a little something of it was related to being celibate since Hinata was still an ultrasound scan and the man in front of him, with the nicely cut suit, with the eyelashes that floated over his cheek when he bent his head being unfairly pretty).

•~*~•

“Come on, dad. Come on.” Hinata’s tiny hands tried to tug on his dad, succeeding only in wrapping them around his dad’s large fingers.

Daichi did a bad job of hiding his smile, probably because he wasn’t really trying to—even if it’d save his son’s pride. “I’m coming.” He might have the strength to stay still even with Hinata’s efforts, but his son had determination flowing from every pore. Even if he hadn’t felt like going along with it, the dislocated shoulder he’d get would probably persuade him. 

He sucked in a final breath before they made the last corner—he needed to make a good impression in front of Hinata’s teacher—and nearly spat it back out when Hinata dragged him in through the open classroom door.

The teacher spun his chair a quarter-turn, releasing a worksheet to greet them.

“Hello–”

Daichi was already gaping.

It was Kuroo.

Except he was in a soft cardigan and worn blue jeans. He was wearing glasses. His sleeves were too long and covering his fingers. He was wearing _glasses_. His bedhead rounded off the soft look—it suited the ensemble more than some slicked-back look. He was _Hinata’s **teacher**!_

“Mr Sawamura.” He blinked twice. “It’s you.”

Daichi had arguably less chill. “Yes.” He couldn’t stop staring. “Me.” Daichi was wearing a messy suit again. _Fuuuuck_. He needed to distract him from looking at his hideously dressed self. “It’s still me, Daichi is fine.” _Suave af._

Kuroo plucked his glasses off and held them pinched between two fingers. “Of course, Daichi. Well, it’s nice to finally meet Hinata’s dad. He’s always bragging.” He aimed a crooked grin at Hinata who reciprocated with reddening cheeks.

Daichi’s memory of that day was coated in a thick, syrupy haze. Hinata smiling as he passed over his magnum opus art, sunlight coating him in amber. Kuroo praising his son—distorted by that same amber shine. A varnish coat against the painting—yeah, Daichi didn’t remember much else of it till a lot later. When he’d had time to revisit the afternoon, memory entirely untainted by anything that followed.

•~*~•

Daichi walked into Tetsurou's classroom once more.

Tetsurou stood up to shake his hand as he emerged from behind Hinata. At last, he was spared a break from this cohort's tiger mums. He strained to dial back his fatigued, relieved smile.

The expression blew off his face and left him with a new problem. His eyes exploded open and his lips parted like a baleen whale, eager to drink in the tight muscles begging for a touch through Daichi's too small polo.

When they’d first met, Daichi’s suit was dishevelled, with a large blotch on the blazer. When they met again, his blazer was spotless, but his shirt was crinkled like a fan. Tetsurou didn’t look _down_ on him for it, but you start to see a man as unconcerned with his appearance when so many times it seemed like . . . he maybe was.

He thought he whimpered, or at least, he kinda wanted to when Daichi let go of him. His hand was warm and super soft. Next thing he knew, Daichi was sitting—why didn’t he tell him to call him by his first name too already?—and he was hovering above his own seat.

“Evening. Where’s Hinata tonight?”  
  
“At his grandparents’,” chuckled Daichi. “It was strongly suggested to me that both my son and my parents would have me excommunicated from the family if I ended their sleepover early.”

“Ahh, important that you came alone then.” He smiled and Daichi matched him.

Did they turn the heating on by mistake? It was _stifling_.

He tugged at his collar to keep from shoving his foot into his mouth. “What’s with the tight top? This isn’t swimwear season.”

Daichi blushed. “Hinata spilled some blackberry juice on my clean shirt. Had to dig out this old polo.”

His skin flushed super prettily, Tetsurou’s chin dropped into his hand as he nodded along, smirking.

“I know it’s not the best-looking thing in my wardrobe probably.”

He was modest as heck—biceps straining as he scratched at his face, a pec clenching less than a quarter inch below the surface. He had abs for _days_. And Tetsurou wanted to feel that ripple with his own fingers. Put his mouth on one and su—

“I’m sorry?” Daichi asked.

“What?” Tetsurou blinked.

“. . .”

Tetsurou squirmed, teeth clenched. Daichi’s mouth gaped open and shut like a fish toy Hinata used to have. The men sat in silence, defying the other to break the hush and deal with the awkward.

•~*~•

Hinata tossed a carton back and forth between his hands—he’d inherited his dad’s volleyball skills and took to using them at every opportunity—deftly catching and throwing without any risk in range of his tiny hands.

His grandma sat on the couch, confused. “What do you mean you spilt juice on your dad’s clothes on purpose?”


End file.
